January 25, 2014

A Glimpse

Sometimes I worry about things that I hope will never happen. Like what would become of my little girls and their dad if I should meet an untimely death? I don't often going around contemplating my death, but ever since became a mother my paranoia has grown.

There was a time when I would have jumped at the chance to go skydiving. The only thing I needed was the nerve. The desire was, and still is, there. But now, even if I had opportunity and nerves in spades, there is nothing in this world that would ever convince me to do it. The risk of disabiling injury or death is too great. And I never want to do something that could increase the chance of these three girls of mine growing up motherless. These days I don't even drive as fast as I used to andwhen I'm out at night by myself I am even more aware of my surroundings and potential dangers, constantly aware that I need to make it home because there are children there who need a mother.

Shortly after Ingrid was born and breastfeeding didn't seem like it was going to work for us, my sister wrote down a list of things I would need to buy and amounts required to formula feed my baby. I kept that list attached to the side of our refrigerator and made sure to keep Derek informed of its existence from time to time, with the specific instructions to follow it to a tee if something should happen to me and our breastfeed baby Ingrid needed food that I wouldn't be able to provide. He was instructed to take that list directly to the grocery store before anything else and get the supplies necessary to feed our little daughter.

Once Ingrid moved into solid foods I discarded the note. After Elodie was born, I relaxed a little and didn't pin anymore "in case of" notes on our fridge. I simply told him to call my sister and she would know what to do. And now in the case of Danica, I find myself constantly reminding him of the same all over again. I just want him and them to be prepared in face of those giant "what ifs".

Still, that does little to quiet the worries and constant wondering of how their lives would pan out without a mommy around.

Sometimes I catch moments like this that make it easier to bear those thoughts. They remain as hauntingly heartbreaking images in my mind, that once seen I cannot forget.

My three beautiful daughters are and would be in the kind, caring and capable hands of their very loving father. I see them in moments like this and I am struck over and over by how very hard he tries. Like me, he is learning this parenting thing as he goes except with three girls and a very steep learning curve, you would think the odds are stacked against him. But, no, he is an eager learner of these girls and they are fantastic teachers. All children are, really. We just have to listen. He sets a good example.

I think back often to that early morning in our bathroom six years ago. We had just found out we were having a girl and Derek was nervous, saying he didn't what to do with a girl. "Do they play with Legos?" he worried. I assured him he'd be fine.

And, you know what, he plays princess, and dress up and barbies and beauty salon better than anyone else I know. My babies are lucky. Even if he sometimes gets it wrong and sometimes drives me crazy.

He tries. I really can't ask for much more, can I?

And on a less melancholic note... he's getting quite good at doing hair. Ingrid was quite proud of this "hopscotch" do designed just for her!